After an invigorating, yet peaceful yoga class—yes, there is a yin and yang to most yoga practices, I walked to my car but couldn’t go home and go to work without a swim. It is almost like a reward for a job well done—one of the reasons that living on the water means so much to me. The high tide lapped the sand and as I dove in, the clear, cool water gave me a little rush as I breast stroked out to deeper water, feeling free and strong and light.
The sun danced on the ripples of the tide, creating a kaleidoscope of light on the patterns of the sand beneath me. As I eased into my crawl stroke, I became aware of my breathing and elongation of my arms, leg and torso—just like I had done in my yoga class. I felt the same calm as I inhaled and exhaled, feeling my body turn slightly with each overhead stroke, as I dropped my shoulder to create a little body roll, propelling me through the water. My breath evened out with each stroke as I reached as far forward as possible, pulling the water towards my chest and away from me, off from my hip. Just like in yoga—opposing forces creating length, balance and strength, using the breath to create a stretch and release—like the ebb and flow of the tide.
I watched a fish beneath me, envying the ease with which it flipped its tail and slid quickly and effortlessly through the sea; I tried to emulate the slipperiness of that slim, scaled body, stroking and gently kicking my way up the beach.
I tried to let my thoughts go and use this time as meditation, just focusing on the rhythm of my breath and the corresponding arm and leg motions. Unlike the times that I am swimming for fitness and working hard to push myself and swim hard and strong, this day was like a vacation—a time to enjoy the peacefulness of the atmosphere and the moment—a time to find a little balance to soothe my mind and body instead of the frequent pressing and stressing that are the “normal” parts of my life. Could this be my “new normal?!”…